


Some Nights

by bubblewrapstargirl



Series: Gladers [1]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Pre-Series, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 07:25:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1890138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubblewrapstargirl/pseuds/bubblewrapstargirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some nights, the Gladers indulge.</p><p> </p><p>Since Dashner confirmed that Newt was gay, I'm now 100% sure that Alby/Newt is canon. And judging by how much Minho cared for both of them and all the trauma they went through together? Yeah I'm gonna go ahead  and say regular threesomes are not only extremely likely, they're also well deserved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Nights

Some days are easier than others. All days are hard; always there is the relentless search for a way out, the regular toils and troubles of the Glade, petty squabbles to settle and fear of the half-beast, half-machines that roam just outside of the Doors.

But some days are better, when the satisfied feeling of clean skin and a full stomach lingers long into the dusk, and Newt can listen to the Runners' progress reports, or other news from the Gladers, with only half an ear and a kind of detatched contemplation. Alby asks him sometimes, how Newt can remain so calm in the face of everything they go through. But he doesn't know what Newt did, out in the Maze. No one does - that's a secret between him and the Creators, constantly watching through the eyes of their beetle blades.

So Newt just gives him his best enigmatic smile, as though he's found the secret to life's mysteries, and maybe he has. Then he trails an idle hand down Alby's shoulder, distracting him with a kiss. It always works, and Newt is glad for it. Glad that they have this, at least. For however long they both survive, he gets to have Alby's touch, his kisses, and that's something the Creators don't get a say in.

He knows they're always being monitored - knows the Creators have watched Alby strip him bare and lift Newt into his arms; he just doesn't care. When your whole life is a game directed by someone else's rules, you quickly learn to forget what those slintheads think of you. You do what you must in order to survive, and Newt needs this. Needs Alby.

Alby is strong, strong enough to carry Newt to bed with the other boy's legs wrapped around his waist - strong enough to drag Newt back to the Glade before the Doors closed. He saved Newt's life, and most days Newt doesn't know whether to hate him for it or thank him for not leaving him to the mercy of the Grievers. Nights make everything clearer - that's when Newt chooses to focus on loving him instead.

Most nights, it goes a little something like this; when the Gladers are settled and all the day's tasks are complete, Newt and Alby head up to their room, hand in hand. Alby always kisses him like it might be the last time he'll ever get to do so, deep, all-consuming kisses tinged with a hint of desperation that shake Newt to his very core. He likes to hold Newt in his arms, wrap him in his larger frame, and Newt would be a liar if he said he didn't like being wrapped up in one of Alby's bear hugs.

Alby is a demanding leader; fearless. To keep control of the Gladers, he has to be. Newt values order, but Alby is the one who enforces it, commands respect. You'd be forgiven for thinking he'd be forceful in the bedroom, domineering. But it isn't so. Newt is taken apart by Alby's gentle caresses, all his sweet spots lingered over by clever fingers and hungry lips. Broken down, piece by piece, until he's a shaking mess. Then Alby builds him right back up again, finally giving him what he wants. 

Newt hates calling it "making love" - a fuck is a fuck no matter how you spin it, but there's a flash of hurt in Alby's eyes whenever he says so and Newt has learnt to keep his shuck mouth shut. Whatever you call it, Alby brings him to completion with deep, rhythmic strokes into Newt's body, thrusts that have Newt leaving scratch-marks along his lover's back as he clings on and screams out his orgasm. They rarely do it the other way around;  Newt enjoys it this way too much, sobbing out his pleasure when Alby manages to hit his sweet spot over and over.

Some nights, they let Minho into their bed. He's as good a friend as Newt has ever had - from what he remembers, at least. And they know he doesn't cater to his own needs often. Running is exhausting work, and Minho has extra responsibility on top of that, as Keeper. On particularly rough days, when Minho makes it back to the Glade just before closing with a scowl on his face and scratches on his legs, Newt and Alby will share a look - a whole conversation in a few glances - and when the Gladers bed down for the night, Newt will take Minho by the hand and lead him to the top floor of the Homestead.

Minho is a meticulous lover. Methodical, but with a wild side he lets loose when he gets sick of foreplay. He fucks Newt with a stamina that is almost unbearable, most times with Newt on his hands and knees, fingers clenched tightly into the blankets, while Alby watches with hooded eyes, lazily stroking himself. Sometimes, Minho shoves Alby into the mattress instead, and scrambles on top of him, slamming his hips down as he takes Alby's cock like he can't get enough. Newt loves those times, because he gets to watch these beautiful boys move together, sweat glistening on their naked skin in the dimly lit room.

Minho doesn't usually let Alby come when he rides him like this - he knows how much it frustrates the other boy, and how much Newt loves sinking down on their leader's cock when Minho has collapsed in a pile of tender limbs at their side. This is the slowest sex Newt and Alby have - Newt loves to savour it, the feel of Alby holding on to his hips, gentle encouragement as Newt lifts himself on shaking knees and plunges back down. It hurts to go slow, but he relishes it, rolling his hips, coming with a sigh. Alby is never far behind.

They won't have this forever. Some days, Newt doesn't know what he's bothering to hold on for. A world that allows the Creators to torture children with the Maze is obviously a poisoned, broken world. But when the sun shines brightly, and Newt catches Alby watching him from across the Glade, a twinkle in his eyes and a subtle smile dancing on his lips - well. Those days, Newt knows he'll keep holding on for as long as it takes.

**Author's Note:**

> Some nights I stay up, cashing in my bad luck;  
> Some nights I call it a draw  
> \- Fun


End file.
